


Mission: Marriage

by lethally_deadly



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Deaf Clint Barton, Honestly they hate each other, M/M, Slow Build, hate before love, spy AU, winterhawk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-26 07:16:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4995226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lethally_deadly/pseuds/lethally_deadly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint and Bucky are both agents of SHIELD, both snipers and both completely hate each other. When the two get sent to Minnesota to go undercover as newly-weds, tension builds and they realize that maybe they need to put their differences aside and work together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Mission

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is a Spy AU that I am doing for my dear friend [adamsgirl42](http://adamsgirl42.tumblr.com/) on tumblr. The prompt was "Clint and Bucky are both agents of SHIELD and hate each other until they are forced to go undercover as married". This work is beta'd by my favourite beta in the world, [hrafnsvaengr](http://hrafnsvaengr.tumblr.com/). I kinda took some liberties with this and didn't exactly make it that much of an AU but here's a little background information:
> 
> So basically, Bucky is still brainwashed by HYDRA for 70 years--that didn't change. Steve also has the same background story. The only difference is Clint and Natasha go back to SHIELD after the Battle of New York because of personal reasons in Clint's case, and the need for the Black Widow on regular missions. When Bucky shows up; he isn't accepted as an Avenger because he could still be potentially dangerous and needs to prove himself so Fury sends him to SHIELD to work as an agent until they can trust him to be an Avenger and one of the Earth's last lines of defence
> 
> This will be a multi chapter so let me know if you like it and would like to read more :)
> 
> Now that I've wasted a lot of your time; let's go!!!

Barnes is an asshole. 

That's what Clint has learned in the two years Barnes has been at SHIELD. When Barnes had first arrived at SHIELD there had been lots of speculation about who he actually was. Every agent knew that Steve Rogers had been his best friend, but after being kidnapped and tortured by HYDRA for seventy years, no one knew exactly whom he had become. Steve however, was convinced he was still his Bucky Barnes--not the Winter Soldier. Steve had even tried to pull some strings to make Barnes a new member of the Avengers. Fury had refused but compromised by offering Barnes a job as a SHIELD agent; not a welcome idea to the Winter Soldier or Captain America, but Barnes had accepted nonetheless. 

Clint had also found himself at SHIELD. After the Battle of New York, he had needed a little time away from the Avengers--by 'a little', he meant a couple years--and had stepped down from the superheroing to do a little super-spying instead. This had put him in Barnes' company quite often but that wasn't a problem.

Until it was. 

Barnes had come into SHIELD with a terrifying reputation that made the baby agents cower in fear. No one had wanted to mess with the Winter Soldier--even Natasha had said it would be a bad idea--and everyone had avoided him as though he were contagious. Clint hadn't bought into that and had made it his personal goal to make friends with the Winter Soldier; after all, they were both snipers and Barnes could use a friend seeing as Steve was so busy being an Avenger. 

When Clint had first approached Barnes it was in the cafeteria in SHIELD headquarters. Barnes had been sitting at a table by himself, so Clint had decided to go sit with him. As Clint had approached the table, Barnes had levelled him with a glare so intense and intimidating, Clint had almost turned tail right then and there. But Clint Barton was nothing if not determined, so he had gone and sat down anyways.

“Hey, there. The Amazing Hawkeye; how ya doin'?” Clint had stuck his left hand out to shake with the soldier, realizing his mistake too soon. Barnes had looked at his outstretched hand disdainfully and pursed his lips and looked at his own metal one, before he had turned back to his lunch, stabbing his fork into his salad with more force than was strictly necessary. 

“Okay, I guess you’re not in the mood to talk. Whatever,” Clint had frowned, “I just thought I’d be welcoming and shit because I know how scared everyone is of you--”

“Are you scared of me?” Barnes had surprised Clint by asking.

“What? No, of course not. I mean, sure, you kinda act like an asshole but--”

“Maybe you should take the fucking hint and leave, Barton.”

“How do you know my--”

“Stop. I don’t need a friend, I like intimidating the shit outta the pussy agents. So leave me alone and don’t try to make nice with me. I know Steve put you up to it.” Barnes had growled the last sentence with a withering look at Clint. 

“Look, man, I’m just trying to help you,” Clint had not been impressed with Barnes’ attitude. “Steve didn’t put me up to anything,” Clint had tried to explain, but Barnes had stood up and left Clint at the table by himself.

And ever since that moment, Bucky Barnes and Clint Barton have never gotten along. Whether it be missions, range scores or straight up hand-to-hand combat, everything between the snipers is a competition and both refuse to be second to the other. Everyone at base knows not to insult either of them or in any way insinuate that one is better than the other. It’s a bit of a sore spot, and Fury finds it completely and utterly annoying.

So he decides to do something about it.

* ~ *

"Absolutely not, Nick! No way am I working with that douche bag!" Clint crosses his arms, pursing his lips disdainfully. 

"Well good thing I'm not asking you, Barton." Fury raises his one eyebrow, levelling Clint a terrifying stare even with just the one eye, "You and Barnes are gonna do this because I'll fire your asses if you don't."

Clint rolls his eyes with a scoff, "Yeah right. I'm the best fucking sniper you got and Barnes is the only other agent worth mentioning. Do you really think I'd believe that you'd fire the both of us?"

Fury gives Clint another look that Clint takes to mean "You're damn right, I do."

"Nick, the last time you tried to get us to work together, Barnes almost blew up a safe house and our target ended up dead. I'm not fucking working with that giant asshole."

"I could say the same about you, Barton."

Clint whips his head around to see a smug looking Bucky Barnes standing in the doorway of Fury's office. 

"I'm glad you could join us, Sergeant Barnes. Now take a motherfucking seat and listen to me, goddammit."

Bucky snarls at Fury but takes his seat beside Clint, kicking his foot as he strides by. 

"You two have been at each other's throats from day one and I'm fucking sick of it. It's time to grow the fuck up and start acting like real goddam agents instead of bitching at each other. Learn to be professional, goddammit!"

In the silence that follows, Clint shifts awkwardly in his seat while staring at his feet. 

"I expect way more from my senior agents." Bucky glares at Fury but says nothing. "Now, unless you want to lose your job, debriefing is at nine hundred hours tomorrow. Don't be late--now get the fuck out of my office."

With a grumble, Clint and Bucky both rise to their feet and leave the office, each breaking off to go find their best friend. 

* ~ *

"I swear, Nat. They're just trying to make it difficult for me!" Clint paces around Natasha's room with a frown on his face. 

"Barnes isn't even that bad, Clint. I don't know why you don't like him."

Clint stops his pacing to give Natasha an unamused look. "He told me I was a second rate archer and took three of my kills claiming I was either 'too slow or too stupid' to make the shot."

"Okay well that was one thing Clint. What have you done to piss him off?"

"Absolutely nothing! I've been nothing but nice to the guy but he's still a douche bag! The first time we had a mission that failed, he full out blamed it on my 'incompetence' and requested he never get paired up with a 'dumbass like me'!" 

"Clint, I think you've been holding this grudge for too long."

"I definitely have not, Nat. My entire life I've been called not good enough, and now when I'm finally something important, something strong, some asshole has to come and prove that I am still second rate." Clint slumps down onto Natasha's bed beside her and curls into her side. 

"Oh, Clint. You’re a fool, Yastreb," Natasha scolds as she cards her fingers through Clint's messy hair, "No one thinks that you are second rate. You are one of our best snipers and SHIELD still uses you, mostly on important missions like this next one with Barnes."

"That's not the point, Tasha. I understand that I'm still useful, but the fact that someone like Barnes can just come in and take my place as top sniper just sucks! What am I, if I'm not the best sharpshooter? Nothing. I'm nothing without that title," Clint curls his arms around himself defensively, pushing his face into Natasha's slim shoulder. 

"Clint Barton, you are such a idiot."

"So I've been told."

"Seriously, Clint. Nobody can shoot like you. Barnes is as good as you but no one shoots like you do. Is there a better archer in the world?" Clint shakes his head. "No. There's not, so get your head out of your ass, suck it up, and go do that mission to prove that you're not going to let a fossil like Barnes destroy your confidence."

Clint looks at Natasha for a long while, then finally cracks a smile. 

"Okay, Nat. Thanks," Clint kisses her cheek before nuzzling into her side again, and falling asleep. 

* ~ *

"Steve, fuck my life."

Steve looks up from his book--"A History of The Cold War"--and gives Bucky a once over. His friend looks rumpled and completely exhausted. Steve had been waiting in Bucky's quarters at SHIELD so they could hang out and watch a movie when Bucky had got called to Fury's office. 

"What's wrong?" Steve asks, confused

"What's wrong is that Fury's making me do a mission with Barton," Bucky frowns.

"So what?"

Bucky looks at Steve incredulously, "So what? So fucking what?! I would gladly murder Barton in cold blood is what! That guy is such an egotistical bastard it's not even funny."

"I don't know, Buck. Clint's a real nice fella; maybe you need to get to know him," Steve chastises. 

"Oh, I did get to know him, Stevie. I got to know him super well when he was bitching about me being a better shot than him," Bucky replies sourly, "There's a scoreboard on the range setup here and Barton--of course--had the top score so I tried it out and beat his shitty score. He was not fucking happy and sulked around for like a week until he finally broke my record." 

"Buck, that's not really a reason--" Steve starts.

"Then I broke his new fucking record and that little shit has been pissed ever since."

"Listen, Bucky, I don't think that would be the only thing to make Clint upset. Did you do anything to make him angry with you?" 

Bucky glares at Steve, "What the hell, Steve? Aren't you on my side!"

"Of course I am, Buck!" Steve says earnestly, "But Clint has been through so much in his life, I just can't see him freaking out about that. He's such a nice guy and he’s been through a lot of shit."

"So have I, Steve. About seventy years of shit."

"I know you have, Buck," Steve says with a grimace, "But I think he's got a couple issues of his own that you probably didn't help when you showed up and took over his job."

"I didn't take over his damn job! I'm just better at it than he is, so I get fucking missions!"

"Honestly, Buck, neither of you is better. Your range score has been tied for almost a year, that's what Natasha said. Neither of you can beat the other anymore," Bucky huffs at Steve's words, "Maybe you should be looking at the similarities between the two of you rather than the differences. You could become good friends."

Bucky thinks this over for all of five seconds. Sure it would be nice to be on good terms with the archer; especially because they're going on a mission together, but the thought of listening to Barton talk nonstop about nothing sets Bucky's teeth on edge. 

"Yeah, sure Stevie. I'll try to play nice, but I'm not making any promises," he tries to appease Steve. 

"Good, Buck. Thanks." Steve smiles. 

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Get outta here-- I gotta be up bright and early to get a run in before the debrief with Fury tomorrow morning."

With a laugh, Steve agrees and leaves Bucky with his thoughts about Barton and how hard it's going to be to 'play nice'.


	2. The Departure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint and Bucky get full details about their mission and finally get ready to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm sorry but this is a small chapter today. They should get longer throughout the story, but for now they're kind of short. I'll try and get the next chapter posted sometime this week, but no guarantees XD

"So Barton, your name is Christopher Ryder, and Barnes, you're Benjamin Addison."

"Wait, it says here that I'm Christopher Addison," Clint says, squinting at the file. 

"Yes. You are. After you got married, you took Barnes' name."

This stops them both in their tracks. 

" _What?!_ " Both agents ask together. 

"You two are going undercover as a married couple. You're newlyweds, so you move into a new apartment where the targets live and make nice with them. They've got a kid on the way, and the husband has a gay little brother, so he, should be accepting and want to befriend you."

"Why the hell did I have to take his last name?" Clint huffs in the silence that follows. 

"Well look at you; you're definitely the bottom in this relationship. It would only make sense if you took my last name."

"Fuck you, Barnes."

"Actually, I think _I_ fuck _you_ , Barton."

"Can we get back on fucking track please?" Both agents snap their attention back to Fury who has slammed his hands onto his desk so hard, his cup of pencils has fallen over. 

"As I was saying, the two of you will be going to Minnesota. You're going to go undercover, move into an apartment and gather intel on your neighbours. Your targets are Josh and Stacy Cable. They're married, and might have some interesting information about the new weapons that are being discovered in the hands of gangs in that part of the country." Clint frowns at the file when Fury continues his summary of the mission, "We think Josh has some connections and he's hooking his boys up with a little fire power from the army. We have found military standard bombs, bomb kits, and firearms in these guys' warehouses. They're extremely dangerous and could get scared very easily-- that's why we're sending you two. You're both good with undercover work and are trained in disabling bombs, unlike Widow and the other agents we've got."

Bucky nods his head, "Sounds easy enough. How long are we thinking this is going to take?" 

"Why? Got somewhere to be, Barnes?" Clint asks the soldier.

"No, just curious how long I have to suffer before I get to finally leave your ass in Minnesota."

Before Clint can respond, Fury cuts in, "Man you two have a lot of warming up to do before you leave." 

"What do you mean 'a lot of warming up'?"

"You two are going to need to act a lot more like a couple by the time you reach Minnesota."

"Fuck that, Fury. We'll sell it in the targets' company but not outside it," Clint glares. 

"If you get busted, Barton I swear to god I'll fucking kill the both of you. Now get ready for your mission, you're leaving tomorrow at six-hundred hours. The drive's about twenty hours, so check in when you get there--suck it the fuck up Barton; I don't care how long it is. Barnes, to answer your question, I don't know how long it's going to take. Probably at least a couple months. They need to completely trust you. Try and get into their lives; best fucking friends. It's going to take some time." Both Clint and Bucky exchange an unhappy look. "I'm sending the two of you because you're the best I've got. We need you to be a couple because you've got to seem like you're not a threat, but at the same time keep them interested and unsuspicious. Befriend them and don't make them question your relationship or they'll run. Don't make me regret this choice, Agents. I need both your heads in this; it's more important than this pissing contest you're both involved in."

With one final glance at the agents Fury stands up and points to his door. "I'm not fucking with you; go get ready and figure out who's driving." Clint opens his mouth to ask a question, "And before you ask, Barton, you can't take a plane." 

"Why not?" Clint whines. 

"Because you can't get a rental car while you're down in Minnesota. You're supposed to look like you're living there, not on fucking vacation. Now get the fuck out."

The two agents get up, picking up their files and without a word head to their separate rooms. 

"God help me, I hope I get both agents back in one piece."

* ~ *

The rest of the day is dedicated to preparing luggage, packing weapons, and going over the mission file. Eventually both snipers find themselves in the range, each with their respected weapon.

"Great, just the guy I wanted to see," Clint sighs in annoyance. 

"I could say the same to you," Bucky replies without taking his eyes off the target through the sights of his rifle. 

Clint looks at the soldier, striding by to set up a target beside him, setting the target as far away as possible.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, Barnes,” Clint concentrates on setting up his bow. He nocks an arrow in less time than it takes Bucky to blink, and an arrow is spiralling into the target with a thump.

Bucky takes his eye off his sights and looks at the archer with a raised brow. Clint smirks and points to the target that now has an arrow lodged into the centre perfectly. Bucky rolls his eyes and looks through his sights again, points his gun at Clint’s target, and shoots. He then looks to Clint with a smirk of his own. The bullet had gone straight through the arrow’s fletching, putting a tear in it. Clint’s eyes widen, but he quickly reigns in his expression, schooling himself into a look of bored nonchalance. 

“Pretty good, huh, Barton?” Bucky flashes a wicked grin in Clint’s direction. The archer shrugs and sets up two more targets.

“I’ve seen better,” Clint remarks while nocking three arrows. “This, for example.” Clint looks in Bucky’s direction as he takes aim at the targets. Bucky scoffs. No way can he make this shot, absolutely no way. Clint seems to notice the challenge in Bucky’s eyes and huffs out a laugh. The archer looks at the targets and slowly draws the bow. With one last look at the targets, he looks over his shoulder at Bucky, who had stopped shooting to watch the maniac, and quirks an eyebrow before releasing the bowstring without looking. 

“Holy shit,” Bucky murmurs as all three arrows sink deeply into all three targets. Clint’s grin couldn’t get an bigger if he wanted it too. 

“Feel free to pick your jaw off the floor anytime, Barnes.” Bucky snaps his mouth closed with an audible click, as Clint makes to clean his station. 

“See you tomorrow, hubby! Make sure you get some sleep, it’s gonna be a long twenty hours for you,” Clint winks at Bucky, clapping him on the shoulder as he leaves the range.

Bucky is frozen for a moment, but eventually growls and packs up his rifle, heading to bed. On the way up to his room he vows to get a little payback for allowing Clint to call him “hubby” without losing a finger.


	3. The Drive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint and Bucky finally head up to Minnesota and have an interesting time during the drive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was posted later than I would have liked, but be patient with me! I'll get it done, I promise :)

After the long-winded goodbyes to Natasha and Steve, Bucky and Clint regretfully head to Fury, who gives them their fake passports, money, comms, burner phones, mission files, and other mission related things.

“Okay, you two should immediately go to the apartment when you get there. The sooner you get there, the sooner you get to leave, so I suggest driving through the night. Remember, your mission is to make friends with them so you can arrest them. Try not to get attached and bring them home, Barton,” Fury scowls at Clint who grins sheepishly.

“It was one time, Nick! It won’t happen again. Probably.”

Fury sighs and shakes his head. “Keep an eye on him, Barnes. At least try to, anyway.”

“I’ll do my best, sir,” Bucky replies with a wry smile.

“Don’t be a smartass, Barnes” Fury glowers in the face of the smiling Sergeant.

“I’ll do my best, sir.” 

“Just get the fuck to Minnesota and close this case. We’ll be in touch.”

With that heartfelt goodbye, Clint and Bucky leave the compound and get to their car. They both pack their bags and head to the driver side door. Bucky glares at Clint and pointedly opens the door putting himself between Clint and the driver’s seat. Clint huffs and walks around the car to the passenger side and plops himself into the seat moodily. He is not a morning person. 

Barnes gracefully swings into the nondescript, black sedan. He starts the engine and pulls out from the compound checking the time. 6:05; they’re five minutes late. Fury was right; the faster they arrive in Minnesota the faster they can leave. He would have to avoid tolls, and take a shortcut to get there quicker. Maybe he could shave some time off their trip if he skips a meal stop. Maybe they don’t need lunch, they could just--

All thoughts of conserving time fly from his head when the radio crackles to life. Bucky glares at Clint who smiles innocently at him and fiddles with the radio station, causing static to buzz through the car. 

Clint finally settles on a station playing hip hop. This apparently bores the archer who switches stations again, static taking over for a little while. This time something extremely loud and metal blares through the speakers, making Bucky grimace. Clint shoots him an apologetic look then changes stations with another crackle of static. 

Classic rock this time. Static. 

Rap. Static.

Smooth jazz. Static. 

Bucky’s jaw clenches so hard he thinks he can feel his teeth cracking. 

Clint switches the station one more time. Static.

“JUST PICK A FUCKING STATION!!”

Clint jumps at the volume of Bucky’s voice. He stops touching the dial, hands shooting to his hearing aids leaving the radio resting on what he had last found.

Country.

Bucky breathes in deeply and grips the steering wheel so tight he’s afraid it will break. Listening to some southern man sing about how “she thinks his tractor’s sexy”--whoever she is--is definitely not what Bucky counts as a good time. 

Clint, however, is singing along.

“She thinks my tractor’s sex-eh,” the archer sings in a horrible off key southern twang

"Jesus, it's not hard to tell you're deaf when you listen to music like this," Bucky grumbles. 

Clint stops singing mid word to shoot a glare at Bucky. "That was a real douchey thing to say, Barnes."

Bucky shrugs and turns back to driving. 

"Fuck you, you one-armed son of a bitch." Clint turns off the radio, takes out his hearing aids and looks out the window, throwing the car into complete silence. 

Bucky grits his teeth and turns his attention back to the road to tune out the uncomfortable and strained quiet that Clint Barton so rarely exudes. 

* ~ *

When they finally stop next, it's noon. Bucky had wanted to skip lunch but Clint had been very adamant that that was not going to happen. The two sit in a cheap diner, ordering huge greasy burgers and too-salty fries. Bucky looks disdainfully at his meal, while Clint devours his with a deranged sort of glee. 

"How can you eat this? Everything in this place is covered in salt," Bucky asks Clint in disgusted awe. 

"Tastes like clogged arteries," Clint sighs happily and licks burger grease off his thumb. He finishes his massive burger and slumps back in his seat, wiping his greasy hands on his lap. 

With a roll of his eyes, Bucky calls the waitress over for the cheque. She comes over and sets the bill on the table. 

"Would you be able to split the bill?" Bucky asks without a thought. Clint frowns and sucks in a breath. 

"Wow, babe. I guess I have to pay for my own meal now?" Clint sulks, "Where has the magic gone, Ben?"

Bucky shoots Clint a look that could peel paint. The archer just smiles and looks at the waitress. 

"He's kidding. Just put it all on his tab. You don't mind, right, honey?" Clint looks completely innocent which just proceeds to piss Bucky off even more. 

"Whatever," the soldier grumbles. He snatches the bill off the table and lays down some cash. "Happy now?" 

Clint nods with a shit-eating grin and makes to stand. Bucky gets up as well and stalks out of the diner, leaving the confused waitress and a pleased Clint in his wake.

Bucky gets into the car and thrusts his key in the ignition. He sees Clint laughing and waving at the waitress who waves back from the inside of the diner. When the archer arrives at the car, he pulls the door open with a smirk and sits down. 

"Edith was extremely worried about how angry you seemed." 

Bucky grunts in response, backing out of the parking space, not really paying attention to Clint. 

"I just told her that you're under a lot of stress because of the wedding," Clint gives a wry smile, picking at his nails. "She says congratulations, by the way."

"Just fucking stop, Barton," Bucky snaps. "Jesus, I have no idea how I'm going to put up with you for another day let alone another month!" 

Clint just smiles his infuriating smile again and kicks his feet up on the dashboard, "Well maybe if _you_ stopped acting like such an asshole, _I_ wouldn't have to act like such an asshole."

"Is this about that hearing aid comment? Because if I recall correctly, you did call me a one-armed son of a bitch."

"Yeah but that was after you made that below-the-belt comment! And that's not why I'm pissed, Barnes," Clint scowls. 

Bucky raises his arms in exasperation, ignoring Clint's frantic plea of "hands on the wheel! Hands on the wheel!!" 

"Fuck off, Barton. At least try not to piss me off or you're going to be going home missing a couple body parts," Bucky growls. 

Clint frowns again and pulls out his hearing aids. He throws them at Bucky, then rests his head on the window, pulling his hood over his eyes. Bucky sighs and goes back to focusing on driving. 

* ~ *

Clint had fallen asleep two hours ago in the seclusion of his hood, and the silence of the car without his aids--which weren't even that big of a help. Fury had made him leave his Stark Industries hearing aids behind and switch to his regular, crappy, behind-the-ear ones again. Apparently his alias wouldn't be able to afford them, so it could blow their cover. Clint thought this was a bunch of bull but he left the aids behind anyways. 

As the archer sleeps, Bucky shoots casual glances over his sleeping frame. Arms crossed shielding himself, eyes covered by his hood, tension throughout his body, soft whimpers occasionally coming from his mouth. 

Nightmares.

Bucky knows that feeling all too well. He continues shooting looks over at the sleeping archer. When Clint is asleep, he seems so much more fragile. He seems smaller, younger and flat out breakable, especially without his hearing aids. Bucky feels a surge of unexpected protectiveness, and looks at the hearing aids he had collected from the floor earlier. He needs to look after this tragedy. Now that Steve is bigger and stronger than anyone else in the world, Bucky needs another small, blond man to look after and Clint Barton fits the bill perfectly. 

Bucky shakes his head. He was just debating about cutting off Clint's fingers not two hours ago, and now he wants to shelter the man and protect him from himself. He convinces himself it's because he can relate to the archer; he has nightmares and they break him. He doesn't want anyone to be destroyed by their past like he was. 

Just as Bucky comes to this conclusion, Clint shudders and lets out a startled shout. He lifts his arms and starts pushing away an invisible attacker before he surges upright into wakefulness. He slams his head off the roof and shouts out a loud "OWW". Bucky flinches at the volume and places Clint's hearing aids on the dashboard. Clint nods his thanks and puts them in. 

"Was I really loud?" The archer asks bashfully at a much more reasonable volume. 

"Not really loud, but loud enough I know you were having nightmares," Bucky responds, pointedly not looking at Clint. 

"Great, that's all I need; the Winter Soldier feeling bad for me," Clint grumbles. He rubs at his ears and leans back in his seat. 

"It's okay, you know," Bucky breaks the tense silence that follows. 

"It's been years since it happened and I still have fucking nightmares about it," Clint responds in an uncharacteristically quiet voice. He refuses to meet Bucky's eyes even though the soldier looks at him. 

"It's been years since HYDRA fucked me up, but no one tells me I should be over it," Bucky turns his eyes back to the road. He doesn't know where this side of Clint came from--this self-loathing, depressed, insecure, human side, but he finds that he would almost prefer the snarky, asshole that he grew to hate. 

"You were also screwed around with for seventy years, Barnes. That's a little more than the five days I suffered," Clint runs his hands through his messy hair in a show of obvious discomfort. The soldier frowns and looks at the clock. It's only 3:00 in the afternoon. There is still a lot more of this trip to go. 

Bucky hums his agreement, "Just because your hell was shorter than mine doesn't mean you were burned any less."

Clint finally looks at Bucky; his piercing blue eyes staring straight through him, locking him in place, unable to look away. 

"You'd better be careful, Barnes. You keep this up and I might not hate you anymore." Clint finally looks away and it's like Bucky is released from a spell and can move again. He turns back to the road and tightens his hold on the steering wheel. 

"Don't you worry, I still got a couple hearing aid jokes that you'll find insensitive."

Clint actually laughs at that and the sound surprises Bucky for some reason. In the two years they've known each other, Bucky has never made Clint laugh until today. For no apparent reason the thought hits Bucky hard; he cannot understand why one of the happiest SHIELD agents currently employed has never laughed at him. Bucky prides himself on being a sarcastic asshole, so when people don't appreciate his sarcasm he doesn't understand.

"Fuck you, Barnes. I said might. I still don't like you," Clint says with no heat behind it and closes his eyes again. 

"Right back at you, Barton."

* ~ *

By the time they reach Indiana, Clint has his head stuck out the window like a dog. He whoops out in enjoyment while Bucky drives through the state. They've been driving for a little over eleven hours and Bucky is exhausted. It's 5:00 pm when they get back in the car from their second pit stop. Clint had been complaining about dinner, but Bucky had denied him, claiming they are well behind schedule until Clint had offered to pay for the both of them. Bucky had readily agreed after this suggestion. 

Bucky looks at the archer with a raised brow. "Get your head back in the car. You look like a dog."

Clint pulls his head back in through the window with a goofy grin plastered on his face. "I like dogs," is all he states before shoving his head out again. 

Bucky thinks that he might want to revoke his earlier statement about wanting to protect the man. He acts like he is twelve years old, and is equal parts immature and asshole. Bucky turns his attention away from Clint and stifles a yawn. 

After another two hours, Bucky becomes incredibly tired and Clint has begun to notice the signs that the soldier is losing energy. 

"You want me to drive?" Clint asks.

"No, it's fine. I just didn't get much sleep last night."

"How much is 'not much'?"

"I don't know... maybe two hours?"

"Oh my god, Barnes. I don't trust you to drive with only two hours sleep!" Clint panics, "What the hell were you doing last night that kept you up 'til four in the morning?"

"Going over the mission report," Bucky answers rubbing his eyes. 

"That's it; stop the car. I'm driving now."

"Barton, it's fine, really--"

"No way, Barnes. I've slept for half the trip so far. Stop the car."

Bucky sighs unhappily but pulls over anyways. He would fight Clint on this, but he is really tired. The two of them swap spaces on the side of the road. 

When Clint sits down in the driver's seat, he looks over at Barnes and slowly reaches out for the radio. 

"I swear to god, Barton. If I have to listen to one more song about a fucking tractor, this mission is going to be over before it even starts," Bucky growls. 

With a laugh, Clint pulls his hand away from the radio and starts the car. They take off down the road with the sun setting behind them, over halfway to their destination.


	4. The Apartment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our boys finish up their drive and finally arrive at their new apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we're finally starting to get into this, guys! Next chapter should be more exciting, but it may take a little while to go up. I'm pretty busy right now but I'll try and finish it quick! I make no promises!! :)

Clint feels tired already and has only been driving for five hours. 

It's been a _long_ five hours. 

He yawns loudly and feels his eyes begin to droop then quickly shakes himself to refocus on the road. They're in Wisconsin now and it's 10:00 at night and Clint finds the silence in the car both peaceful and unsettling. Bucky had fallen asleep a few hours ago but he doesn't exactly look like he's getting any rest; the constant furrowed brow and taught muscles give away his distress. Clint thinks this is probably exactly what _he_ had looked like earlier when he had fallen asleep while Bucky was driving. 

Clint's stomach rumbles. Frowning, he looks down and with a mumbled "Aww, tummy, no," decides to stop at a convenience store. He can't even _remember_ when they last got gas, so instead he stops at the nearest gas station, leaving Bucky in the car to sleep. 

He exits the car and completely fills the tank. When it comes time to pay, Clint gives Bucky one last look through the window before going inside the store. He buys two gatorades, some beef jerky, and three tubes of Pringles before checking out. When he gets back to the car, Bucky is no longer in the passenger seat. 

Clint freaks out. 

He rips the driver's door open, and flops down, tossing the food on Bucky's seat while looking around frantically for him. 

"Where the hell are you, Barnes?" Clint murmurs as he looks around the gas station, jumping when he feels a blade pressed to his neck. 

"What the _fuck_ , Barton?!" Bucky growls behind Clint. 

"Holy shit!" Clint looks in the rear view mirror and sees that Bucky is the unknown assailant with the blade. "Barnes, what the hell?"

Bucky looks somewhat sheepish as he pulls the knife away from Clint's throat. "I'm sorry, but I woke up and you were gone and I didn't know where I was." Bucky awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, putting his knife back into the concealed pocket he pulled it from. "Don't you do that again, you fucker. I had no idea where you were. I thought you were _dead_."

Clint looks dumbfounded as Bucky eases himself back into his seat. "I'm sorry, I just wanted food and we had to fill up."

Bucky nods in understanding, "Well next time, wake me up. I have enough paranoia as it is, don't make me have to worry about you too, Clint." Bucky looks inside the bag of food and grabs the beef jerky with a pleased expression. 

Clint blinks and stares stupidly at the soldier. Did he just call him "Clint"? That's the first that either of them has referred to one another by their first name. 

Shaking himself from his wonder, Clint starts the car and heads off in the direction of Minnesota once again. 

* ~ *

"Since we only have about three hours until we get to our new 'home', how about we go over the mission report?" Bucky asks, flipping through the file with a look of intense concentration. 

"If you want to, I guess," Clint sighs, "So, Brainerd is where we're heading, right?" 

"Yeah, Brainerd, Minnesota," Bucky agrees. 

"Alright, so what are our covers again?" 

"Did you even read the mission report, Barton?" The exasperation is crystal clear in Bucky's voice.

"I skimmed it..." 

"You're such a fucking slacker," Bucky mumbles. "Whatever, I'm Benjamin Addison and you're Christopher Addison. We used to live in New York but we moved to Minnesota because we didn't like the hustle and bustle of the big city--"

"Wait, wait, wait. Did you just say 'hustle and bustle'?" Clint cackles. 

"Fuck you, Barton, I'm ninety years old, give me a break." Clint laughs as Bucky continues, "Anyways, we move to Minnesota to get away from the noisy city. Mission objective is to make friends with the neighbours. Getting information to SHIELD about the weapons should be enough, so we might not have to infiltrate the warehouses on our own."

"Right. What are our back stories?" Clint asks, "I think we're going to need a legitimate excuse for why you only have one arm and I'm deaf."

"Obviously," Bucky rolls his eyes, "We'll keep it pretty close to the truth. I'm a war veteran, lost my arm in Iraq, and you lost your hearing because of your abusive father or something related to that."

Everyone knows about Clint's dark past; it's no secret, but Clint still flinches at the mention of it. "You know my dad isn't the only reason I'm deaf, right? It was an explosion that mostly fucked me up." 

"I know but how are we supposed to sell that? Where would you come in contact with an explosion?"

"I don't know, maybe I was in Iraq, too? We could have met there, or at the VA?"

Bucky thinks about this long and hard. "Okay, that would make sense. I like it," he finally states. 

"So what do Benjamin and Christopher Addison do for a living?" Clint asks.

"I don't know, we'll have to get jobs over there. In the file it suggests I could be a grief counselor for veterans and you could be a personal trainer, but since we've switched up our background stories a bit, we could switch that around." Bucky looks up hopefully at Clint who scoffs. 

"That's just because you don't want to do the hard work, isn't it, Barnes. You don't want to be the grief counselor because that's a hard job, you ass!" Clint says jokingly.

"No, it's because you could actually help these people better than I ever could," Bucky sounds serious. "You would be a good option for this, Barton. I can't even help myself, I couldn't help someone if my life depended on it. I'd fuck up the mission; it wouldn't seem real if it were me."

Looking into Bucky's eyes, Clint realizes the soldier actually believes that. Clint feels a surge of pride and accomplishment shoot through himself at the words. "Thanks, Bucky. If you really don't want to do it, I will," Clint volunteers in a calm, understanding voice. This throws Bucky off for a minute while he stares at the archer. Did Clint really just do something nice for him? Did he really just act like a grownup and handle a problem instead of arguing about it? 

"Thanks, Barton."

"If we're going to be married in a few hours, I think you should call me Clint," Clint smiles at Bucky before turning his attention back to the road. 

"Right. Thanks, Clint." Bucky replies awkwardly. Clint makes a dismissive noise midway through a yawn. When Bucky looks at him, really looks at him, he can see that Clint is absolutely _exhausted_. "Okay, now pull over; I'm driving."

"No way, Barnes. We're almost there," Clint argues. 

"We still have over two hours and you're practically falling asleep at the wheel." Clint still refuses to give up the job, so Bucky tries to persuade him. "Let me drive and I'll let you turn on the radio." 

This catches Clint's attention and he pulls over. Once they switch seats and the radio is blaring shitty country music again, it's not ten minutes later Clint is already fast asleep. Bucky can't help the smile that slowly spreads on his face at the sight of the archer, mouth open, head thrown back and a surprisingly pleasant expression on his face. Bucky catches himself and deliberately frowns, shaking himself. What was that? He decides to push down the wave of affection that rolled through him upon looking at Clint and focuses on driving into the still night, surrounded by the soft sound of Clint's snores. 

* ~ *

It's around 5:30 in the morning when Clint and Bucky finally make it to their apartment in Brainerd. Clint grumbles as he is woken up. Still complaining, he grabs his bag and follows Bucky up to their room anyways. Bucky is not happy about the extra hour and a half they took to get there, but when they finally get to the medium sized apartment complex, which was both chosen and paid for by Fury, he forgets all about the time and takes in their new home.

To the right of the entrance there’s a kitchen, complete with a refrigerator, countertop with an oven and a dishwasher, and a small dining table that can seat four people comfortably. Across from the kitchen and to the left of the entrance, there’s a living room with a loveseat, two easy-chairs and coffee table all angled towards an expensive-looking television. There’s a sliding door that leads to a large balcony overlooking the city. Clint let's out a whoop of excitement when he sees it and immediately runs out the door and onto the patio. Bucky rolls his eyes and continues his exploration. 

On the wall directly across from the entrance there are two doors. Bucky opens the one on the left first which leads to a small bathroom. He tries the other, which brings him to the bedroom. He's painfully aware that there’s only one bed. Bucky had overlooked this particular problem. He sighs and continues looking through the large bedroom, finding another TV, this one smaller than the one in the living room, and an adjoining bathroom complete with a shower and jacuzzi tub. 

Bucky heads to the balcony to see Clint sitting on the railing, feet dangling precariously over the edge of the building. Their apartment is on the sixth floor; if Clint were to fall he could be seriously injured or even die. The thought makes Bucky's gut clench unexpectedly. 

"Clint."

"I love heights. I love this balcony. I love this apartment," Clint sings, kicking his dangling feet.

"You won't when you see the bedroom," Bucky mumbles in response. 

"What do you mean?" Clint hops off the railing and follows Bucky inside to the bedroom. When he sees the double bed sitting in the middle of the room he sighs heavily. 

"Shit. I forgot we'd have to share," Clint rubs his eyes, frustratedly and looks at Bucky. "We'll just have to take it in turns." 

Bucky nods and gives Clint a good look. "You take it tonight."

"Okay," Clint yawns, "Well I'm fucking gassed." He walks over the bed and flings himself down. "Get out of my room, Bucky."

Bucky laughs and leaves the room to settle on the couch for the night. His last thought before falling asleep is to buy toiletries, food, and pillows and blankets in the morning.


End file.
